


And God, she’s a sucker for red lips

by Skye_La



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, Angst, Cheating, Established Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, F/F, Smut, art gallery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:43:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5742538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_La/pseuds/Skye_La
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swan Queen Week - Day 1 - Lust</p><p>Emma's sick of following Regina around the gallery all night. She's the only god damned piece of art worth looking at in the whole place. Her attention wanders and Regina watches her follow some girl out. "Good" Emma thinks. She's not really doing this, she just wants to scare her. She's not really doing it until she is.</p><p>Art gallery AU, established Swan Queen. Marked as complete for now but may continue later. Fair warning, this does not have a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And God, she’s a sucker for red lips

"This is such garbage" Emma says. Her hands flop to her sides, one still holding an empty champagne glass.

Regina glances around, looking for anyone who might have overheard. No one seems to have noticed Emma's outburst, or if they did they are too polite to acknowledge it.

"It's not garbage" she says quietly, but in a firm enough tone to get her message across.

"I could make that" Emma points at a piece entitled Race Hate. 

"Perhaps you could, but you didn't, and if you did it would be a different work entirely"

"Why?"

Regina studies the piece for a moment. "Tell my why you would have written these words this way"

Emma squints at it. "It looks cool"

Regina smiles briefly, meaning it's not a smile at all. Not even a smirk. It's a placeholder that means 'wait for it, I'm about to fuck you up'.

"The artist chose this graffiti style because the theme of the piece is racism. Graffiti is a valid form of political comment and an expression of belonging to groups. Often these are predominantly young black or" she glances away looking for the right words "minority ethnic groups. The artist is referencing that and acknowledging that this is a form of political expression from those groups. They are tying their experiences, their message and their subject all together with this single signature"

She notices people have gathered to listen to her. Emma looks over each one of them. All attention on Regina, rapt as if she's casting a spell over them and they are all eager to receive it.

Sycophantic, Emma thinks. Someone starts talking to Regina and she leaves Emma to stew. 

_Great._ She knows she was a little out of line but she didn't deserve to be dressed down in front of Regina's crowd. She doesn't know why she asked her to come anyway. She's not into the new portrait exhibition at all.

"Another?" A polite voice asks

She looks up. A woman with a tray smiles at her with slightly more sparkle than when straight girl's smile at her. Another...

"Oh" Emma says, and places her empty glass on the tray "thank you"

"You weren't sure for a moment there" she says 

Emma smiles back. This is the most genuine interaction she's had since she got here. The girl, no, woman is attractive. Dark eyes, curly dark hair, red lips. God she's a sucker for red lips. She glances over at Regina, now surrounded by people in trendy suits probably called Guy and Maximillion. Regina's watching her while talking, trying to not, but from the corner of her eye she is.

 _Good._ Emma thinks.

"Do you think you could show me where the bathroom is?" Emma asks "or the cloakroom?"

The woman is still smiling but looks unsure. "Which do you want?"

"I want somewhere quiet with no people." The woman's eyebrows raise slowly "I have a headache" Emma drawls. It's true but it sounds unconvincing.

She can feel Regina's eyes on her. She can feel her willing her to come back. She's not fucking willing enough to leave her gathered disciples though.

Emma’s not really doing this. She’s not really going off with this woman, she just wants to scare Regina. She just wants to hurt her remind her that she chooses her and she doesn't have to. She isn't doing this until they're out of the main gallery, in a sectioned off room filled with art only made visible by light filtering in from the party upstairs. There is a frosted glass wall one floor above them casting a big square of light across the cavernous room. 

"This is about as quiet as you'll get. No one will come by here and the dark might be...comforting?"

She isn't really doing this. Until she is. The other woman's eyes are climbing up her legs. Emma’s dress is on point and she knows it. She feels a thrill of excitement, appreciation, adrenaline. This is the moment, her choice. The other woman's intentions are clear, the decision is hers.

She feels wanted and powerful, she turns and it is made. The woman smiles as she takes her lips with her own. It's new, quick, exciting. She feels her body awaken like she's made for this. She's against a wall. This girl is hungry for her. Another thrill, ending between her legs.

Their tongues meet. Her taste is different. She's a confident kisser. Her hands are all over Emma. She squeezes her ass as she grinds their centres together. Emma moans and leans into it.

"God" this girl whispers "you're so hot" she grinds again as they kiss. Emma wants to be in her now, fucking her against the wall with her biggest strap-on, pulling her hair back, screwing her from behind, making her scream. But her strap-on isn't here. While she's imagining all the things she wants to do, this girl is pushing up her dress, pulling her underwear aside and feeling her, hot and sticky.

The girl sighs sliding her fingers inside. "Wow, you're pretty wet"

Of course she was, she'd been watching Regina swing around the gallery all night. The only god damned piece of art worth looking at in the whole place, in a black dress and matching fuck-me pumps. Her hair was curled just the way she liked and those red lips...

"Fuck" her attention snaps back to the girl working her like she lived for it. She has dainty hands but fuck if she doesn't know how to get what she wants with them. Emma pushes back against her. The girl's thumb that had been dancing around her labia slides over her clit and she hums in satisfaction.

"Impatient" she whispers and bites Emma's ear. God does she know how to pick them. 

"I just-" Emma starts as the girls thumb starts circling and she spasms "-know what I want"

"You want that?" She asks making smaller and faster circles and pushing into her harder.

"Yeah" she kisses her hard and urgently. Their rhythm hits the perfect speed and she groans into the girl's mouth. The girl smiles back and squeezes her hardened nipples through her dress. Emma’s eyes are open and she can see the artwork in the shadowy room. She comes imagining bending Regina over one of the sculptures.

"Oh fuck" she jerks against her. The girl breaks away from her lips, letting her ride her climax. Her fingers move slowly, gently letting her down, but not completely. Torturous little pleasure bumps on a clit that's had enough. That was the kind of woman Emma seemed to attract. Red lips, thirsty, ever so slightly evil.

"Shit" she looks at the girl, she's grinning, pleased with herself, it makes her feel dirty. If she has read this girl right, she know exactly what to say.

"Don't you fucking smile at me" she grabs her wrist and slams her against the wall. The impact must hurt her a little. Her eyes close in pain briefly, before they open in lust. "I am going to make you fucking beg" Emma snarls at her.

The girl, no, woman bites her lip and reaches to kiss her, Emma pushes her back hard. "I don't fucking think so" she rolls against her and Emma presses her into the wall with her body. The girl groans. Emma whispers into her ear. "What do you want, baby?" She pushes harder and the girl just moans. She squeezes her roughly "you like that?"

"Uh huh"

"And this?" She grabs her ass

"Yeah" 

"What about this?" She slides her hands between her legs and squeezes there too. She squirms uncomfortably. She presses the fabric harder and rubs firmly down and up. The girl starts to move with her. "I don't fucking think so, princess"

Emma pulls away and unbuttons the girl's uniform trousers. They are down, she pulls her underwear. They're sticky. "You naughty, naughty girl" she blows on her gently.

"Fuck, you fucking bitch" 

Emma smiles and ghosts her fingers over her clit. She's open, it's right there, so easy to tease and she does. When she starts to groan in mixed enjoyment and complaint Emma blows on her again. She gasps but before she can call her whatever name she's thinking, Emma has two fingers inside her as she blows

"Oh!" Is all she manages. Emma finds her spot easily. The spasming nerves give her away. She presses against it as she thrusts in and out. She blows just a moment longer, just long enough to make her think it's all she's getting, then her hot mouth is pressed against her.

The girl yelps, grabs a handful of Emma's hair and grinds into her. Emma uses her free hand to shove her back against the wall. She isn't kneeling so as not to get those telltale signs, she's balanced on the balls of her feet so her leverage isn't what it would be if she was fucking Regina like this at home. Or in the gallery. Against one of those shitty fucking portraits. She's rough. This girl is stifling her noises but there's no doubt about what Emma is doing to her.

"Oh fuck, fuck, I'm, I'm-" 

Emma withdraws completely. The girl yelps and stumbles forwards, feeling the extreme loss as her body pushes her over into orgasm anyway. Emma catches her, well used to how this works on Regina. 

"Ah!" She shakes "you fucking bitch, shit!" She shakes again and Emma holds her firmly until she stops almost a minute later.

"What the fuck"

Emma smiles and she drags her into another kiss. 

-

It’s a blessing and a curse that one of Regina's colleagues needs a lift home. Emma sits in the back as Regina drives. She got all that girl's lipstick off her face and neck but she is definitely a little pink in places from rubbing too hard. 

She isn't listening to their conversation, not that it is relevant or interesting or even fucking accessible to her. She gets into the front seat when he leaves and waves like she gives a fuck or even remembers his name.

Regina doesn't turn the car around straight away. She is looking at where Emma's dress ends and her legs begin. She drags her eyes up her body, lingering on her low neckline briefly before looking at her face. 

Guilt burns in her cheeks. She can't read Regina. Her eyes are dark, her mouth is set, she has her mask on. That should be a sign in itself but all it really says is that something is going to happen when they get home. 

-

Regina is slamming the car door before Emma even gets out. By the time she reaches the kitchen she has the dishwasher open, pulling out clean glasses for wine. Emma's eyes are drawn to the silicone dildo she had put in there for cleaning. She meets Regina's eye and something is definitely about to happen. 

"So are you happy with your event?" Emma asks

Nothing

"Did you get to talk to DiMondo like you wanted?"

Nothing

"Did you have a nice night? Did you lose the ability to speak somewhere between here and the car?"

"Don't do that" Regina dismisses

"Do what?"

"Act like you have any fucking right to be pissy with me this evening"

"Um, I do have the right, you fucking abandoned me in there" Emma’s chest fills with self righteous anxiety.

"And that girl?"

Bingo 

"Oh so you did fucking notice when I left, that's nice"

"I was working! And watching you disappear with some girl because you had a fucking tantrum"

"I hate all that shit, Regina, why did you even make me go?"

She stares back for a moment before speaking. "They made a presentation to me. It was supposed to be a surprise so I didn't say anything in case of didn't happen. You missed it because you were what, three knuckles deep in a girl whose name you don't know?"

Emma feels like she's just been hit in the chest with a sledge hammer. "A presentation?"

"Yes" Regina hisses

"That's...that's amazing, you've worked your ass off for them it's about time you-"

"It's a bit rich for you to pontificate on what I deserve"

"I give you everything!"

"No Emma, I give you everything. You give me whatever you think is enough and the rest you give for free to any pretty girl who looks your way" Her grip on Emma's face is hard. She pulls her into a fierce kiss. "You're mine. Do you understand? You're mine?"

It's all Emma wants to hear, it's all she wants. They kiss and it's fire. She feels wanted by her for the first time all night. It aches.

Regina's hands are pulling up her dress. She scrapes her nails up Emma's thighs. In the back of her mind she thinks she will leave marks and she wants her to. Regina's tongue is in her mouth making demands she is dying to fulfil. 

She lifts her knee and curls her leg around Regina, pulling them closer. She pushes back into her, hard. She gasps. Regina's eyes are open just a touch. She's drinking her in, biting her lip, watching her face contort in love, lust and agony. 

She pins Emma's hands over her on the wall and reaches down between her legs. She squeezes and stops. Emma grinds against her and opens her eyes when Regina doesn't respond. 

Regina's are wide open this time. Dark like melting chocolate. They are glazed with water. Emma's heart stops in her chest.

"You..." Regina says quietly. Emma swallows "You actually fucking did it"

Emma can't move, why can't she move?

"You weren't just trying to fuck with me" she wrenches her hand away and shoves Emma hard back into the wall. "Your knickers are wet through but you’re not. You actually fucked that girl in the gallery while I was there, while everyone I work with-"

"Oh my god, why does it always come back to work?"

"Fuck" Regina turns away from her. Is she crying? She sniffs and the back of her wrist is pressed to her nose.

"Regina I...it was nothing, it just happened"

"How does it 'just happen', Emma? How many times has it 'just happened'? How many times are you going to do this to me?"

"I didn't do it to you" yes I did, that's a complete fucking lie.

"You're a terrible liar and a shitty fucking person. You couldn't wait an hour to get home and be fucked by the person you promised to fuck exclusively?"

"It's not that easy for me, I don't know why-"

"Because you have no fucking self-worth? Because you don't give a fuck about our relationship? Because you enjoy hurting me? Hurting yourself? I don't fucking care why you do it. This is the last time"

Regina grabs the nearest cloth, wipes her hand and throws it on the floor before heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Emma asks

"It's none of your fucking business"

"Babe where-"

"I'm not your fucking babe, not anymore. Do you understand?"

"No"

Regina stops, the front door open, warm night air blowing into the house, rustling the curls Emma loves.

"It's over, Emma. You've finally broken it."

"No"

"Yes"

"Please, let me explain, I won't do it again, it meant nothing, I just want you! All I care about is you!"

"You only care about yourself"

"Baby please" Emma's body finally starts to work again, but slowly, far too slowly. She turns enough to watch Regina’s coat swish out of the door before it slams. "Regina!" She shouts. The car starts.


End file.
